Epilogue
Thrain stretched his arms overhead as he stepped outside the Tusk & Tail, a yawn creaking his jaw.
It wasn’t particularly early, but he’d been up late the night before.
He and Rog had been exchanging their tales of adventure, although lately, Thrain’s retelling of the pirate quest had left him melancholy.
When he’d first returned, he’d been thrilled to be back in the homey village and surrounded by friends, but as the days had slipped into weeks and then months, he’d started to miss the friends he’d made on The Cruel Mistress.
Unlike Marvella, Lira didn’t let him loiter in her kitchen, and he hadn’t dared try to help Pip.
Vaskel, who’d always been good for a late-night pint, was spending more and more time with Iris, and Rog had Rosie to go home to at the night’s end.
That meant that it was usually him closing down the tavern and then hauling himself up the stairs to his solitary room.
Not even Bramble slept with him now that they were back on land, since the wee beast and Crumpet had nests of blankets set up for them in the kitchen.
“’S’alright,” he muttered to himself as he inhaled the fading aroma of blooming sweetsuckle that grew wild around the tavern and tugged his greatcoat closed against the crisp air that heralded the coming of autumn. “At least there are no sirens in these parts.”
The clang of the blacksmith’s hammer drew his attention across the stone bridge to where the figure of a broad-shouldered orc stood in the open workshop with a fire glowing behind him.
Then he slid his gaze to the stream, meandering past the rolling waterwheel to the flat-bottomed boat tied to the shore.
Thick ropes reined the houseboat to the bank of the stream, but it still bobbed gently.
Thrain grinned at the sight of the colorful hull that reminded him so much of The Cruel Mistress—minus the pirate flag and multiple towering masts.
“Ahoy!” he called once he was within earshot of the boat. “Anyone home?”
The only response was the burbling of the stream and the distant whinny of horses pulling groaning carts over the village’s dusty roads.
Thrain sighed, turning and wondering if Korl’s tinker shop was open. The orc might be a reserved fella, but he didn’t mind when Thrain came in to sit for a spell and watch him work. Just as he’d turned to head for the village proper, there was a clatter behind him.
“Ahoy, sailor,” Bonnie said as she emerged from the boat and squinted into the sunlight.
Instead of the pirate clothes she’d worn as Bonnie One-Eye, the new Bonnie had traded in her tall boots and red sash for linen dresses and bare feet.
Her dark hair was pulled up in a messy bun, and there wasn’t an eye patch or cutlass in sight.
Even though she didn’t look the part of a pirate captain anymore, Thrain stood a bit straighter every time he saw her. “Morning, Cap, I mean, Bonnie.”
The former pirate grinned. “Morning.”
Cali popped her head up from inside the boat, then the rest of her followed. “Morning, Thrain.”
“You all settled in then?” Thrain asked, even though it had been a few days since the boat had been finished and the couple had officially moved in. Thrain had helped with both the building of the boat and the hefting of the woman’s belongings from the inn.
Cali coiled an arm around Bonnie and smiled at her. “Feels like home.”
Bonnie returned the smile. “That it does.”
“Didn’t think you cared for the rocking of a boat at night, Cal.” Thrain eyed the pantheri. “You didn’t sleep so well on The Cruel Mistress.”
Cali opened her mouth, but Bonnie spoke before she could. “We made a few changes to help with that.”
Thrain stroked a hand down his beard, although he couldn’t see any significant changes to this smaller boat that would make it less prone to swaying. “Aye? Well, that’s good. Glad to hear it.”
Cali and Bonnie exchanged a glance before Cali extended one arm wide. “Would you like to come aboard? Maybe have a little breakfast with us?”
“We have some of Pip’s pumpkin sweet rolls, although they’re from yesterday,” Bonnie added.
Thrain patted his stomach. “You know I’d never say no to a pastry, although I do miss those sea limes.”
Bonnie extended a hand to help him aboard. “I’m sure I could arrange for Marvella to send some the next time they’re in port.”
Thrain liked the sound of that. “Maybe I could go to Eldu to pick them up?”
Before he could take hold of Bonnie’s hand and heave himself onto the houseboat, a thundering of hooves and jangling of reins made him jerk back.
A wooden wagon, not so unlike the one Rog and Rosie lived in, flew down the lane toward the stone bridge.
A pair of shaggy-hoofed horses galloped in front as a goblin bounced on the driver’s box and flailed the reins.
The wagon swayed perilously from side to side, much like a ship in roiling seas.
And much like a ship Thrain knew well, the sides of this wagon were bedecked with colorful paint.
Cali leapt from her house boat to the shore with Bonnie a step behind her, as they watched the wagon careen over the bridge, its sides bumping the low walls.
The goblin driver yanked back on the reins hard enough to pull the horses to a stop, clouds of dust bunching around the animals’ sweat-slicked legs as the painted wagon rocked back and forth one more time before coming to a shuddering halt.
Somehow, a bow had materialized in Cali’s paws, although she hadn’t aimed it at the wagon or the driver, who was sucking in gulps of air. Now that the wagon wasn’t pitching from side to side, Thrain could make out the words The Cackling Cauldron Players emblazoned on the side in swirling letters.
The back doors of the wagon banged open, and people spilled out, holding their stomachs and gasping for breath.
“Did we outrun them?” An oddly lanky part-orc in a jester costume asked as he sank to the ground.
“Outrun who?” Thrain asked, glancing at the empty road behind them.
“The goblins,” another member of the group said as she swung her head around, pink hair flying.
Thrain gestured to the goblin steering the wagon. “Him?”
“Not him,” a buxom dwarf in a frilly dress sighed. “That’s Peg. He’s part of the troupe.”
“Troupe?” Thrain eyed the panting goblin with frizzy green hair.
A round-bellied man dressed in maroon velvet rounded the back of the wagon and dipped into a low bow, his bushy, white hair flopping forward. “The Cackling Cauldron Players at your service.”
Thrain glanced back at Bonnie and Cali, who looked as confused as he felt.
The man straightened and braced his hands on his back as he surveyed his surroundings. “A goblin gang chased us here, but I suspect this was fortuitous for all of us. Your little village looks like it might be in need of entertainment.”
On the last word, he fluttered a hand to one side and a purple scarf burst from his sleeve and fluttered to the ground. “Ta da!”
Cali’s brows had shot skyward, but she’d hooked her bow over her shoulder again. The troupe didn’t seem to pose a threat, although they certainly appeared to have been in flight from one.
Vaskel walked up from the other side of the wagon, no doubt drawn by the commotion. His tail slashed behind him as he took in the wagon and the performers milling about it. “Did you say goblin gang?”
* * *
Thank you for reading Potions, Pirates & Pie!